If you know me, you probably know that almost nothing scares me more than airplanes. As in, writing that sentance just made my stomach churn and now I've lost my appetite for my delicious key lime pie and I won't be able to fall asleep tonight and I'll be exhausted at work tomorrow from the constant worry of my next plane ride that's months and months from now and I actually, literally feel like throwing up. Let me tell you about how I came to be absolutely, irrationally scared of flying. I can remember the moment I started to hate it.
I wasn't always such a baby about it. The first plane ride I remember was from Salt Lake to Knoxville and I sat in the window seat and was so blown away by how cool the sensation was. I was probably four or five and vividly remember being mesmerized. For like, twelve years, I actually liked flying and didn't mind the hassle of air travel. (Maybe it's because I'm a jaded, hardened adult {just kidding} [kind of] that I just. can't. even. deal with it.)
But then.
I was flying (again) to Knoxville to visit the Tennessee cousins with my sister Emma and it was a genuinely fun bonding experience. I had just graduated high school and Emma and I spent the entire flight mimicking the Delta flight attendant in the safety video that says "Smoking is not allowed." As we descended toward Cincinatti for a layover, the plane just circled for the longest time with what felt like really steep turns. Now I know that it was nothing more than a minor traffic hold up (although knowing that doesn't stop me from clenching my seat in sheer terror every time it happens) but I remember looking out the window (again) and thinking, nope nope nope nope nopenopenopenope.
Honestly, I can't figure out how that experience turned a cool cat into a weeping puddle of tears, but it did. All of a sudden, I was just scared to fly. I can't make a logical connection. But a fear of flying, I think, is 99% illogical. Before you launch into how much safer flying is than driving and how few planes crash compared to all the ones that land safely, etc., etc......save your breath. I don't care. The statisitcs are all well and good until the doors are latched shut and you're locked into your imminent death.
I mean, you can use your imagination to work out what there is to be afraid of. I don't need to spell it out to you. Big metal tube, thousands of feet in air, unpredictable weather, mechanical issues. And so on. The usual suspects.
I think probably the next flight I took was when I went to China several months later, and to be brutally honest, the anticipation of having to fly home ruined my summer the tiniest bit. The flight home was mostly uneventful except for IT WASN'T AND I ALMOST DIED. OK maybe not, but there was a storm in Salt Lake that night and we almost rerouted to Boise but the pilot decided to play puppet master instead and toy with our lives by landing in the middle of Hell itself.
The turbulence was so brutal that the carts and flight attendants were being thrown to the floor. I was actually crying in my seat, eyes shut, mourning the fact that I would die before seeing my family again and my friend Kindra was peacefully sleeping across the aisle from me. I still can't believe a person can sleep while her head is being whiplashed around like a rag doll. I almost fell down the terminal 2 escalator in front of my family because of my jelly legs and chattering teeth.
Let me lay out a typical trip for an aviophobe like me. First, you explore any other form of transportation possible. Wedding in California? Even if the plane tickets are cheaper than gas, you'll absolutely insist on the 12 hour drive, although the stretch from Vegas to Barstow makes you want to claw your eyes out. Fancy a weekend trip to Scotland from London? One word: trains. Which, by the way, I love. I wish there were more trains in the States.
Anyway, if you can't avoid flying (a necessary evil sometimes), you will spend the weeks before your trip agonizing, weeping, and anticipating every possible worse case scenario. Every time you are on the highway when a plane descends for landing, you will scream and squel (screuel?) and watch in fascination. You will become oddly obsessed with planes and plane crashes. You will watch them on YouTube until your husband has to turn off the computer and tuck your simultaneously fragile and adrenaline-pumped body in bed while you rock yourself to sleep. The night before your flight, you WILL melt down in the candy aisle and openly cry while leaning against a stack of Peach-O's, prompting your husband to make a confused call to your parents and consult the possibility of an emergency overnight Xanax prescription. You'll make polite conversation with whoever is driving you to the airport but in your head you'll want everyone to just shut up so you can concentrate on not dying.
I should note here that all of the usual irritants of air travel are wildly exacerbated when you are afraid of flying. More specifically, airports. What can be an annoying experience turns into a downright hell hole. Again, my breath just quickened thinking about it. The noise, the rushing, the announcements, the gate TV's, the flashing departure and arrival boards. CAN EVERYONE PLEASE BE QUIET? I CAN'T TELL IF I'M HAVING A HEART ATTACK WITH ALL THE NOISE. Of course, my voice comes out in a jittery gurgle at check in, at security, at the gate.
I remember my mom and I flying to Amsterdam a few years ago out of the worst little airport in London called Luton. Of course, our flight was early in the morning and in typical Ely fashion, we showed up late. Because we were rushing and I didn't feel like I had time to adequately prepare mentally, I was especially freaking out. We were in a long line at check in, like, 10 minutes before boarding, and an announcement kept blaring about extra security measures and being cautious about unattended bags, which in my mind equated to bomb bomb bomb BOMB BOMB we're going to die! Naturally. I was so keyed up and I felt like the whole airport was collectively keyed up too and since everyone was nervous and scared in my mind, obviously something terrible was going to happen. In reality, I'm sure everyone was calm except me.
For precisely that reason, I always insist on showing up to the airport several hours early. Check in. Breathe. Security. Breathe. Obligatory Cinnabon treat. Breathe. Reading People magazine at gate. Breathe breathe breathe. I showed up to the airport in Beijing literally five hours before takeoff and ended up sitting on my luggage forever just waiting for check-in to open.
Takeoff and landing are always the worst parts. Once we've been cruising for a good hour, I can finally relax a little bit and the color returns to my cheeks slightly. I'm sure this is because biologically speaking, your body can only handle so much adrenaline. I have legitimately wondered if this much stress on my body will kill me before I turn 50.
During takeoff, while everyone is getting comfy and taking off their shoes and putting on their eye masks, I am sitting on the edge of my seat, shoes still on, hands on armrests, ready to spring into action when the emergency evacuation happens. I am full on in fight or flight mode, my heart racing, sweat gathering in my armpits, the whole shebang.
Although Eric has now strongly encouraged me to practice breathing techniques and listening to those wind chimey relaxation noise makers on my phone during takeoff, so now you'll see me on the edge of my seat, shoes on, hands on armrests with headphones jammed in my ears, rocking back and forth.
I used to take sleeping pills during taxi in hopes of conking out and missing the whole ordeal, but since I get so wound up anyway, it just makes me nervous and groggy. Also, I realized that--of course--I can't fall asleep. That would be irresponsible. It's my civic duty to be alert and listening for any chimes, dings, engine failures, or other signs of death so I can alert the pilot and save the plane. And did you know that worrying yourself sick during takeoff actually reduces the chances of crashing? Yeah, it's a thing.
One time, flying home from India surrounded by all of my friends, I decided to take double the dose of Ambien so I could sleep double the time and be double relaxed. The next hour was spent sobbing, wondering why the plane was cruising down a fiery spiral staircase to the ocean, asking the flight attendants why a sheep had to die to make my fleece blanket and why she had three eyes, making weepy declarations like "my dad sings me this song every night before bed!" and generally being the object of everyone's amusement. A YouTube sensation in the making.
So I never took sleeping pills again. I've learned that it's better to be worried and alert than worried and dopey.
My *feelings* toward air travel become a lot messier because I. LOVE. TO. TRAVEL. There is nothing that sparks my excitement more than planning an adventure, most of which are expensive and overseas. Sometimes I feel like.....what's the point of life if I'm not saving up for and planning my next trip? The sign of an emotionally well-adjusted adult, right?
Anyway, this is obviously another post for another day, but now that air travel is so available to everyone, how can I not take advantage of that to see as much of this beautiful earth as I can? I know some people avoid flying altogether, and I'm pretty darn proud of myself for not letting my fear stop me from living my life. If it means taking twenty years off my life (I really wasn't kidding about that), or if I actually do die in a freak aviation accident, at least my life will have been full of adventure. Not to be melodramatic, but the legitimate, all-consuming anxiety I get from flying feels like a sacrifice. First world problems, right? But at least I'm sort of facing my fears.
I just read a book called Cockpit Confidential. You've probably seen it in an airport bookstore. It is genuinely one of the most enjoyable, hilarious books I've read. Like, laying on your bed stifling guffaws because everyone else is asleep hilarious. It's written by a pilot (who's also a fantastic writer) and it answers any and every question you could ever have about flying, in layman's terms. It didn't necesarily make me less afraid of flying (logic, remember?) but it made me more aware of the whole "air travel theater" as the author calls it, so it's not such a foreign experience.
So in conclusion, if you're like me, I would recommend Cockpit Confidential, I would recommend those cheesy relaxation apps on your phone, but please stay away from Ambien and YouTube videos of plane crashes. You will only have yourself to blame.
I wasn't always such a baby about it. The first plane ride I remember was from Salt Lake to Knoxville and I sat in the window seat and was so blown away by how cool the sensation was. I was probably four or five and vividly remember being mesmerized. For like, twelve years, I actually liked flying and didn't mind the hassle of air travel. (Maybe it's because I'm a jaded, hardened adult {just kidding} [kind of] that I just. can't. even. deal with it.)
But then.
I was flying (again) to Knoxville to visit the Tennessee cousins with my sister Emma and it was a genuinely fun bonding experience. I had just graduated high school and Emma and I spent the entire flight mimicking the Delta flight attendant in the safety video that says "Smoking is not allowed." As we descended toward Cincinatti for a layover, the plane just circled for the longest time with what felt like really steep turns. Now I know that it was nothing more than a minor traffic hold up (although knowing that doesn't stop me from clenching my seat in sheer terror every time it happens) but I remember looking out the window (again) and thinking, nope nope nope nope nopenopenopenope.
Honestly, I can't figure out how that experience turned a cool cat into a weeping puddle of tears, but it did. All of a sudden, I was just scared to fly. I can't make a logical connection. But a fear of flying, I think, is 99% illogical. Before you launch into how much safer flying is than driving and how few planes crash compared to all the ones that land safely, etc., etc......save your breath. I don't care. The statisitcs are all well and good until the doors are latched shut and you're locked into your imminent death.
I mean, you can use your imagination to work out what there is to be afraid of. I don't need to spell it out to you. Big metal tube, thousands of feet in air, unpredictable weather, mechanical issues. And so on. The usual suspects.
 |
| Not a pretty picture |
I think probably the next flight I took was when I went to China several months later, and to be brutally honest, the anticipation of having to fly home ruined my summer the tiniest bit. The flight home was mostly uneventful except for IT WASN'T AND I ALMOST DIED. OK maybe not, but there was a storm in Salt Lake that night and we almost rerouted to Boise but the pilot decided to play puppet master instead and toy with our lives by landing in the middle of Hell itself.
The turbulence was so brutal that the carts and flight attendants were being thrown to the floor. I was actually crying in my seat, eyes shut, mourning the fact that I would die before seeing my family again and my friend Kindra was peacefully sleeping across the aisle from me. I still can't believe a person can sleep while her head is being whiplashed around like a rag doll. I almost fell down the terminal 2 escalator in front of my family because of my jelly legs and chattering teeth.
Let me lay out a typical trip for an aviophobe like me. First, you explore any other form of transportation possible. Wedding in California? Even if the plane tickets are cheaper than gas, you'll absolutely insist on the 12 hour drive, although the stretch from Vegas to Barstow makes you want to claw your eyes out. Fancy a weekend trip to Scotland from London? One word: trains. Which, by the way, I love. I wish there were more trains in the States.
Anyway, if you can't avoid flying (a necessary evil sometimes), you will spend the weeks before your trip agonizing, weeping, and anticipating every possible worse case scenario. Every time you are on the highway when a plane descends for landing, you will scream and squel (screuel?) and watch in fascination. You will become oddly obsessed with planes and plane crashes. You will watch them on YouTube until your husband has to turn off the computer and tuck your simultaneously fragile and adrenaline-pumped body in bed while you rock yourself to sleep. The night before your flight, you WILL melt down in the candy aisle and openly cry while leaning against a stack of Peach-O's, prompting your husband to make a confused call to your parents and consult the possibility of an emergency overnight Xanax prescription. You'll make polite conversation with whoever is driving you to the airport but in your head you'll want everyone to just shut up so you can concentrate on not dying.
I should note here that all of the usual irritants of air travel are wildly exacerbated when you are afraid of flying. More specifically, airports. What can be an annoying experience turns into a downright hell hole. Again, my breath just quickened thinking about it. The noise, the rushing, the announcements, the gate TV's, the flashing departure and arrival boards. CAN EVERYONE PLEASE BE QUIET? I CAN'T TELL IF I'M HAVING A HEART ATTACK WITH ALL THE NOISE. Of course, my voice comes out in a jittery gurgle at check in, at security, at the gate.
I remember my mom and I flying to Amsterdam a few years ago out of the worst little airport in London called Luton. Of course, our flight was early in the morning and in typical Ely fashion, we showed up late. Because we were rushing and I didn't feel like I had time to adequately prepare mentally, I was especially freaking out. We were in a long line at check in, like, 10 minutes before boarding, and an announcement kept blaring about extra security measures and being cautious about unattended bags, which in my mind equated to bomb bomb bomb BOMB BOMB we're going to die! Naturally. I was so keyed up and I felt like the whole airport was collectively keyed up too and since everyone was nervous and scared in my mind, obviously something terrible was going to happen. In reality, I'm sure everyone was calm except me.
For precisely that reason, I always insist on showing up to the airport several hours early. Check in. Breathe. Security. Breathe. Obligatory Cinnabon treat. Breathe. Reading People magazine at gate. Breathe breathe breathe. I showed up to the airport in Beijing literally five hours before takeoff and ended up sitting on my luggage forever just waiting for check-in to open.
Takeoff and landing are always the worst parts. Once we've been cruising for a good hour, I can finally relax a little bit and the color returns to my cheeks slightly. I'm sure this is because biologically speaking, your body can only handle so much adrenaline. I have legitimately wondered if this much stress on my body will kill me before I turn 50.
During takeoff, while everyone is getting comfy and taking off their shoes and putting on their eye masks, I am sitting on the edge of my seat, shoes still on, hands on armrests, ready to spring into action when the emergency evacuation happens. I am full on in fight or flight mode, my heart racing, sweat gathering in my armpits, the whole shebang.
Although Eric has now strongly encouraged me to practice breathing techniques and listening to those wind chimey relaxation noise makers on my phone during takeoff, so now you'll see me on the edge of my seat, shoes on, hands on armrests with headphones jammed in my ears, rocking back and forth.
 |
| Relying on my trusty meditation harmonium |
I used to take sleeping pills during taxi in hopes of conking out and missing the whole ordeal, but since I get so wound up anyway, it just makes me nervous and groggy. Also, I realized that--of course--I can't fall asleep. That would be irresponsible. It's my civic duty to be alert and listening for any chimes, dings, engine failures, or other signs of death so I can alert the pilot and save the plane. And did you know that worrying yourself sick during takeoff actually reduces the chances of crashing? Yeah, it's a thing.
One time, flying home from India surrounded by all of my friends, I decided to take double the dose of Ambien so I could sleep double the time and be double relaxed. The next hour was spent sobbing, wondering why the plane was cruising down a fiery spiral staircase to the ocean, asking the flight attendants why a sheep had to die to make my fleece blanket and why she had three eyes, making weepy declarations like "my dad sings me this song every night before bed!" and generally being the object of everyone's amusement. A YouTube sensation in the making.
So I never took sleeping pills again. I've learned that it's better to be worried and alert than worried and dopey.
My *feelings* toward air travel become a lot messier because I. LOVE. TO. TRAVEL. There is nothing that sparks my excitement more than planning an adventure, most of which are expensive and overseas. Sometimes I feel like.....what's the point of life if I'm not saving up for and planning my next trip? The sign of an emotionally well-adjusted adult, right?
Anyway, this is obviously another post for another day, but now that air travel is so available to everyone, how can I not take advantage of that to see as much of this beautiful earth as I can? I know some people avoid flying altogether, and I'm pretty darn proud of myself for not letting my fear stop me from living my life. If it means taking twenty years off my life (I really wasn't kidding about that), or if I actually do die in a freak aviation accident, at least my life will have been full of adventure. Not to be melodramatic, but the legitimate, all-consuming anxiety I get from flying feels like a sacrifice. First world problems, right? But at least I'm sort of facing my fears.
I just read a book called Cockpit Confidential. You've probably seen it in an airport bookstore. It is genuinely one of the most enjoyable, hilarious books I've read. Like, laying on your bed stifling guffaws because everyone else is asleep hilarious. It's written by a pilot (who's also a fantastic writer) and it answers any and every question you could ever have about flying, in layman's terms. It didn't necesarily make me less afraid of flying (logic, remember?) but it made me more aware of the whole "air travel theater" as the author calls it, so it's not such a foreign experience.
So in conclusion, if you're like me, I would recommend Cockpit Confidential, I would recommend those cheesy relaxation apps on your phone, but please stay away from Ambien and YouTube videos of plane crashes. You will only have yourself to blame.
